


22.8 miles

by literatiruinedme



Series: When I Die I'll Be On Time [4]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Cigarettes, F/M, Mentioned Galen Erso - Freeform, Mentioned Lyra Erso, Rogue One Anniversary Week, alternate universe - summer before college, picking out a college
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 11:07:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12982746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literatiruinedme/pseuds/literatiruinedme
Summary: He’d never learned to drive manual and he had no idea where she did, but he loved to watch her drive. Sure, he couldn't hold her hand while she drove, but there was just something so sexy about watching her smoke while she shifted gears.For the Rogue One Year Anniversary celebration prompt "home" and a little prequel toSleep On The Floor





	22.8 miles

He’d never learned to drive manual and he had  _ no idea _ where she did, but he loved to watch her drive. Sure, he couldn't hold her hand while she drove, but there was just something so sexy about watching her smoke while she shifted gears. 

(And if she felt she was too high to drive, she'd pull over and drag him into the backseat and ride him until they both came so hard they needed a few minutes to breathe.)

(Though, sometimes she'd let him pull her into his lap and kiss her until they were both breathless and desperate for more or he'd end up with his mouth on her, his hand over her mouth because she was moaning so loudly.)

He loved their late night drives where she'd show him new music and they'd get shitty fast food and talk until it was just too fucking late to be out. He'd suggest they go home; she'd suggest breakfast. He loved to watch her; one hand on the wheel, a cigarette between her fingers, the foot she wasn't driving with propped up on her seat in chunky combat boots no matter the season, and a denim jacket she got at a concert or his old leather jacket- depending the time of year -shielding her from the cold night air rolling in through her open window, her hair whipping this way and that as she drove. The sight of her in one of his stolen graphic t-shirts (he had no idea how she had so many, but he'd been down to almost solely polos and button ups on more than one occasion) or a cropped shirt that showed just enough skin to make his jeans a hair too tight.

But when he sat down that evening, something was...off. She looked more worn down than usual, her eyeliner thicker, but smudged more heavily. Her dark red lipstick was smeared slightly. When he reached up to fix it, her eyes closed and she took a pained breath. “Little bean, what's wrong?” he asked with a soft smile. She had to blink back tears when she opened her eyes and his heart sank. “Are you okay?”

“I got in,” she breathed, looking happy but slightly conflicted.

His brows furrowed. “Where?”

“College.”

His eyes went wide and he pulled her into a messy and slightly uncomfortable hug; the center console digging into his hip, seat belt half choking him. “Jyn, that's great,” he cheered, pulling back with a genuine smile. He paused when he noticed her downcast gaze. Cassian tutted, reaching up to cup her cheek as he brushed away a stray tear from her cheek. “Hey, we talked about this, you're not allowed to be a sad boy in the car with me,” he teased, ignoring the squeezing of his heart when she let out a watery laugh. “There's my grinning girl.”

She huffed out a laugh, rolling her eyes. “And we talked about  _ this _ ,” she scoffed, tapping a finger against his lips. “You get  _ one _ nickname.”

“Okay,” he hummed. “ _ Happy little bean _ ,” he corrected, relief flooding through him when she scoffed, smiling despite herself. “Good,” he sighed, pulling back to riffle through her glove compartment. “Now, where's that-” His fingers curled around folded yellow paper. “There he is,” he hummed, leaning back in his seat. He reached over to grab the pen poking out from behind Jyn's ear, eyes never leaving the paper. He carefully unfolded the large sheet of paper, smoothing it out over his thigh. “Who accepted?” He asked, turning to look at her, back resting against the locked door. 

“Boston, Brown, Berkeley, MIT-”

“Wait,” he interrupted with a grin. “Number one, how many schools did you apply to and number two, if you say Harvard said  _ yes _ I'm dragging you into the back seat right now-” She laughed, making him smile. “But, you have so many options. We'll narrow it down,” he promised, gripping her knee. “There's no need to be worried.”

“Okay,” Jyn hummed, resting her hand on his. He flipped his hand under hers, slowly rubbing his thumb back and forth along her palm. He put the end of her pen between his teeth as he flipped over their pro-con list of if she ( _ they _ , though he was too stubborn to admit he needed a pro-con list because he was  _ definitely going after the military _ , much to Jyn's displeasure) should or should not go to school, looking down at the empty back of the paper. “So, I got into six schools, but applied to seven schools because Papa’s a madman-”

Cassian huffed a laugh, but pulled the pen from his teeth and began to mark the paper accordingly. “What schools? You said Berkeley, Brown, MIT...the fourth one?”

“Boston,” she hummed.

He nodded, continuing his scribbling. “And?”

“Yale and Princeton,” she sighed, running a hand through her hair. She picked a fuzz off of her black jeans and looked up at him, laughing when she saw his awestruck expression. “What?”

“Are you serious?” he gawked. “Yale, Princeton,  _ and  _ MIT? What? Was Harvard  _ busy _ ?”

“I didn't apply there,” she shrugged.

“Okay, but  _ Yale, Princeton, and MIT _ ,” he repeated. “That’s two Ivy Leagues and fucking  _ MIT _ !”

“I'm aware I got into MIT, Cassian,” she teased.

“No, I know that, but fucking hell, Jyn,” he sighed, squeezing her hand as he smiled. “You're so smart.”

“I’m not  _ that _ smart,” she shrugged. “I'm useless with English and psych,” she pointed out, as if it would discredit him. He knew she could explain any theory or concept he asked her at random almost flawlessly verbally; it was just her teacher nitpicking the work she turned in.

“No, you're  _ not _ ,” he huffed. “I’ve yet to see anyone complete something while trying their hardest and beat you half-assing.”

“Fine,” she bit out, eyes narrowing slightly as she leaned closer. “But what about  _ you _ ?”

He huffed out a laugh. “What about me?”

“You're a fucking walking calculator,” she said as if it were the most obvious thing ever. “You could solve any equation.”

“No,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Cassian, I've watched you solve things  _ Papa _ can't.” He shrugged, looking down at the paper in front of him. “Hey,” she squeezed his hand, forcing him to look at her. “You're a fucking genius and you could absolutely skip the military and do whatever you wanted to.”

Cassian sighed, offering her a soft smile. “I love that you think that, but I'm going to  _ veto _ us bringing up this argument again.”

“Fine,” Jyn hummed, leaning back in her seat again. Her free hand dug through her jacket, pulling out a packet of cigarettes. She pulled one out for herself and put the filter between her lips before offering him one.

“I'll just steal a few hits from yours,” he declined, shaking his head.

“Okay,” she nodded, rolling her window down (it was an  _ old _ car) a crack before lighting her cigarette, blowing the smoke out the window. “So what's first?” she sighed, getting comfortable in her seat again.

He sighed, eyes scanning the paper. “Anything you can cross out because it was a safety school?”

“All of the Bs,” she nodded. His face fell as he looked at her before he finally started laughing. “What?” She frowned.

He shook his head, leaning over the console to coax her into a gentle kiss by the collar of her shirt. She smiled against his lips, cupping his face with her cigarette still between two fingers. He pressed a chaste kiss to his nose when they pulled back. He smiled at her as he leaned back, earning an amused look and a quirked of a brow from her. “I love you,” he sighed, shrugging a shoulder.

She squinted at him, taking another drag from her cigarette as she did. “Okay,” she hummed, tilting her head to release the smoke from her lungs, her eyes still trained on his. “Whatever you say, hoe.”

He grinned, looking back down at the list. “Okay, so MIT-” She groaned. “Pro.”

“As you so eloquently put:  _ it's fucking MIT _ .”

He nodded as he scribbled the words down, a soft smile on his lips. “Con?” He hummed, picking at his cuticles as he waited for her to think. When he looked up, Jyn's gaze was unfocused as she looked at the floor. “Jyn?”

“Far,” she breathed, blinking the world back into focus before she looked over at him. “From here... **_home_ ** ... _ you _ .”

_ You are my home _ , she'd whispered once, both of them high off their asses, having fallen victim to lust. He'd originally thought it was just something she’d said to get his pants off, but she'd said it again and again and he'd realised that that was what Jyn, his best friend since he was six years old, genuinely felt for him.

He couldn't help the blush that found its way to his cheeks as it did every time she said it. “Then for...Yale,” he breathed, wetting his lips, looking up at her with a timid smile. “Distance would be a pro.”

She nodded as he began to write once again. “Cass?” He hummed, looking up at her again. She picked at her cuticles nervously. “I know you barely fit as it is, but can I sit on your lap?”

He smiled as he sat up straight. “Want to sit in back?” He asked, relaxing ever so slightly when he noticed her muscles untense. “There's more room to spread out...or we could go inside. I know Abuela misses you,” he smiled.

Jyn sighed happily, shaking her head. “The back is fine. I don't want to get verbally chastised for smoking...again.”

“How many times has it been?”

“I lost count after we hit sixteen,” Jyn laughed, taking another drag from her cigarette. “She's hypocritical though! She always asks  _ me _ for a cigarette.”

“She's also ninety-two,” Cassian hummed, biting back a smile.

“Not the point,” Jyn huffed, opening her door.

“I know, I know,” Cassian hummed, stepping out of the car. He pulled open the back door as he shut the front, sitting down at the same time as Jyn.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she hummed, leaning in for a chaste kiss. He smiled against her lips, gently brushing his fingertips up the side of her neck as he cupped her jaw before pulling back. “You know I love you, right?” she asked, looking up at him with those puppy dog eyes he was absolutely  _ helpless _ against.

He nodded, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “I know,” he breathed. He kissed her cheek once before sighing and patting her thigh. “Come on. We should finish the list.”

“Okay,” she hummed in her  _ cute voice _ , something that never failed to make him chortle or pull her close if he could. She pulled her legs up onto the seats and curled into his side, practically purring when he wrapped an arm around her as he propped his feet up on the centre console.

“So fuck the B colleges?” He asked, taking the cigarette from between her fingers. 

“Fuck ‘em,” she agreed, making him chuckle.

He put the filter of her cigarette between his lips, taking a long pull before handing it back to her and blowing out a breath. He quickly drew haphazard lines through _Boston,_ _Berkeley,_ and _Brown_. “All fucked because they won't see the likes of Jyn Erso.”

“What a shame,” she hummed, snuggling closer.


End file.
